A Cold Night in Brooklyn
by Waterpologirl17
Summary: Bucky and Steve in the pre-serum, pre-war days, living together, and it's a rather frigid night. Good thing they have each other, for more than one reason! Is it Stucky or friendship? You decide, let me know in reviews!


"Get the door, will you?" Bucky called from outside, knocking on the door with his elbow.

"It's freezing out here."

He stamped his feet trying to keep warm. His arms were full of paper bags; rather meager groceries he had just purchased. His hair was cut short now, he was doing all he could prepare to enlist, and his ears were colder than he thought they would have been. The blue winter coat he had worn for a few years now, was wearing thin, and he probably should buy a new one, but there wasn't much money to spare. The scarf around his neck had been made by Steve's mom years ago, and though it was mismatched, about a dozen different colors, and had to constantly be repaired, he never went without it in the winter months.

"Steve, come on you-"

The door was thrown open.

"Sorry."

Bucky could see his friend's breath in the freezing air, and he quickly stepped through the doorway, so that Steve wasn't in the cold air for long.

"I brought groceries."

"Good. Let me help you." Steve took a bag from Bucky's arms.

"Of course you took the lightest one punk." Bucky joked.

Steve playfully scowled, and elbowed his friend in the ribs.

"Jerk."

They set the two bags down on the counter.

"Steve, it's colder in here than it is outside, I swear." Even bundled up as he was, Bucky was cold.

"The heater's broken." Steve shrugged, though Bucky could see he was chilled but trying to play it off.

"We can't do anything about it until Monday."

Two more days of a frozen home.

Steve pawed through the bags, putting things away periodically.

"And did you get my-"

"Medication?" Bucky finished. "Of course." He reached into his pocket and drew out three small bottles. Two white ones that contained pills, and one dark one full of liquid. Syrupy cold medicine that Steve went through faster than it could almost be produced, Bucky joked.

Though it was nearly true.

Steve went to put the bottles in the bathroom cupboard.

Bucky finished putting the few groceries away.

"Dinner tonight?" Steve asked.

"We've got leftover salad; we should probably eat that before it goes bad."

"Rabbit food." Steve joked.

They ate limp salad for a late dinner.

Bucky tried to get Steve to eat a bigger portion, but he refused, saying that Bucky deserved it more. After all, he was the one working, while Steve was out sick.

Bucky grudgingly did so.

"Buck, I'm going to go to bed. Sorry, these meds really make me tired." Steve apologized, yawning.

"I'll be in in a few minutes." Bucky said, washing the bowls from dinner.

"We sound like an old married couple," Steve said, smiling.

Bucky laughed.

When he went into the bedroom ten minutes later, Steve was already asleep, shivering slightly.

Bucky shook his head.

"Steve. Hey Steve, put this on." Bucky shook him awake, and forced him into another sweater.

One of his.

"Thanks Buck." Steve said sleepily, rolling in a way so his back was against the wall to make room for Bucky in the bed. It was only a full, but they fit as well as they could.

They shared the bed most nights, especially in the winter. Steve was so thin that Bucky was afraid he would freeze to death if they didn't share body heat and clothes.

Steve would usually ended up wearing most of his warm clothes, and a lot of Bucky's before Bucky was completely satisfied with his warmth.

Bucky slid in next to his best friend, under the thin blanket.

He made a mental note to get a new one with his next paycheck.

Steve woke up the next morning, and climbed over his exhausted friend, out of bed to put some hot water on for oatmeal and tea. He thought he would be a nice surprise for Buck, who worked hard to pay for rent and food, and his medications.

The sweater he had slept in, Bucky's, was far too big. The sleeves hung down, until just the tips of his fingers peeked out from underneath.

Best of all, it smelled like Bucky.

Machine oil, gun powder, maple syrup, and his bay rum aftershave that Steve had bought for him for Christmas last year.

Somehow he still had enough of it to have his sweater smell just like it.


End file.
